


things always work out (in the end);

by kinneyb



Series: giving back [7]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Character Death Fix, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Kidnapping, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 22:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20443691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: After Quentin's death, a lot changes but no one gives up trying to get him back. Finally, they have a breakthrough (courtesy of Julia getting her powers back) but things have never been easy for them and this is no exception.





	things always work out (in the end);

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: go to my Twitter & take a peek at my pinned Tweet for your very own fic!!
> 
> Twitter.com/queermight

"High King of... _Earth?_" Eliot asked suspiciously, staring at the others.

Henry stepped forward, hands clasped together behind his back. "After everything you have been through, we have discussed it with the library and Brakebills. As much as we wish magic could be free without laws or rules, it's just not realistic. We need someone here, on Earth, to help keep things controlled and safe for all magicians."

Eliot's eyes flickered around the room. "Wouldn't Julia or Alice - "

"Both turned it down, I'm afraid," he interrupted, smiling wryly. "Said you would be better for the job."

Eliot stared at Julia. He wasn't really shocked by that, but, "Alice?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"You have always been strong," she said, holding her head high. "But lately... your strength has been improving rapidly. And while you can be many things, like petty and - " Eliot raised his eyebrows and she cleared her throat. "You are also wildly understanding. That's - " she paused. "That's what Q loved about you so much, I think."

He looked away.

"We're not asking much of you," Henry continued, softer. "Just your advice, and occasional help."

Eliot took a shaky breath. "Okay," he said, turning back to them with slightly wet eyes. "Okay," he repeated, louder. "I'm the first High King of Earth, bitches."

**A FEW MONTHS LATER**

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Alice asked, standing off to the side. "I mean... you might have your powers back," she continued, glancing at Julia through her glasses, "but what if something goes wrong and - "

Julia took a deep breath. "And the person we bring back isn't really Q?"

Alice nodded sharply, looking away. The room was quiet.

"Doesn't matter," Margo said, breaking the silence like always. She stepped forward and clamped a hand down on Julia's shoulder. "You're a powerful bitch now, right?"

Julia side-eyed her. "Uh. Sure," she said, the corners of her mouth quirking up. 

Margo shrugged and dropped her hand, placing both of them on her hips. "Then, we can handle whatever happens," she said confidently. "Do it."

"And... you're sure Eliot doesn't want to here?" Julia asked softly.

It was just them. 

"He's... grieving in a way that is so spectacularly Eliot," she explained. "He doesn't - he can't get his hopes up again, not if this fails."

Julia nodded curtly and looked away, taking a deep breath. 

"Just think of how proud Q will be of him if this works, though," Alice said, surprising both of them. "Despite everything, he's accomplished a lot over these past few months."

Margo smiled tightly and peered down at her feet. "Yeah," she agreed quietly.

"Okay," Julia clapped her hands together. "Now or never. Here goes nothing."

Margo and Alice both lifted their hands, copying each of Julia's movements quickly. Julia stood over the pile of Quentin's items - his crown, his cards, his books, a peach, everything. Her first act upon regaining her powers was fixing all of Quentin's stuff that had been destroyed or damaged in the fire. 

She realized now the bonfire - the sending off - was all _wrong_.

Quentin wasn't really gone. She was sure they'd find a way to bring him back.

But... even if they couldn't, she didn't want to burn his things again. They should cherish the things that made Quentin who he was, which is why they'd already cleared a spot on the mantel for his things once this was over.

With Kady's permission, of course. It was her apartment now. Or something.

Julia grimaced, her eyes glowing a pretty, bright gold. Alice stared at her. "Is - are you - "

"I'm fine," she barked, swallowing thickly. "Keep going."

Margo pursed her lips and kept quiet, following Julia's movements with her eyes.

Then, "fuck!" Julia gasped through the pain, lurching forward. She gulped down air. "Keep - keep going," she said, "I - I feel something. Something is - something is happening."

Alice made a noise in the back of her throat, obviously worried. But she continued, anyway. Margo took a sharp breath and moved faster.

Slowly, Quentin's belongs lifted into the air. Margo watched with wide, hopeful eyes. She choked back a sob as the items fell back to the floor.

"Don't," Julia said, rough. "Keep going."

Alice's eyes widened, big as saucers, as something akin to the lightning struck the floor in front of her. She stepped back. Margo and Julia did the same, staring at the smoke swirling in the air.

The smoke cleared after a few seconds.

Margo let out a sob, covering her mouth. Julia laughed, wet and wild. Alice just stared in obvious disbelief. But Julia had done it. With their help, sure, but there was no denying she was the one who did it.

"He's - he's not - " Alice said, stumbling over her words.

Julia quickly dropped to the floor beside Quentin's body, still and limp. She pressed a hand over his chest. "He's breathing," she said with a sigh. "He's just unconscious."

Margo laughed, sharp and wet. "El... I - I have to tell him," she said, even as she stared down at Quentin, obviously wanting to stay.

"He'll be okay," Julia assured her, squeezing one of Quentin's hands. "Go."

Margo nodded curtly and ran off.

*

"He's really - " Eliot repeated for probably the eleventh time, running after Margo as she led him through the apartment. "And Julia said he was breathing?"

Margo nodded, a bright grin on her face. "He's back, Eliot," she said, firmly. 

She knew Eliot better than she knew herself - he wasn't a crier. In public, at least, but as they ran to Quentin's bedroom he sobbed openly, rubbing at his eyes roughly. Margo smiled softly and stopped in front of the door.

She immediately knew something was wrong. She didn't know how, though.

"Do you..." she asked, but Eliot was already nodding. He lunged forward and threw the door open. Quentin's belongings were still on the floor.

Alice was on the floor, too. Julia stood in the middle of the room. Eliot stared and stared at Alice's body. She was covered in blood. 

"What happened?" Margo barked, glancing around frantically. "Where's Q?"

Julia stepped forward on wobbly feet. "The - the McAllistairs - they just - they showed up out of nowhere," she said, reaching them.

Eliot reached out and steadied her, a hand on her shoulder. "What happened, Julia?"

"I should've - they caught me off guard," she said, staring blankly. "My magic must've been weak. Because of the spell. I - I couldn't - "

Margo touched her other shoulder. "Julia," she said, firmly. The other girl slowly looked up at her. "Did they take Q?"

She nodded, eyes wet. "I'm so, so sorry," she whispered, glancing at Eliot. "I tried, but - "

Eliot squeezed her arm. "Don't," he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Why the fuck would they even want him?" Margo asked in Eliot's place, because she knew he needed a moment. "And how did they know he was back, anyway?"

Julia licked her lips. "I think I have an idea," she said quietly. "Q... is _different_."

Eliot stiffened, hard as a rock. "What do you mean different?" he asked slowly, like he was afraid of the answer.

"Not - not like that," she replied quickly. "Um. He... they showed up out of nowhere and attacked Alice first," she explained. "They, uh - they stabbed her in the stomach."

Eliot's eyes flickered down to her stomach. "But she's okay."

"She wasn't," she said. "She was bleeding, bad, and I couldn't get to her. But then Q suddenly slashed his arm. I yelled and asked him what he was doing, but he just said _trust me, I think this is gonna work?_" Julia shook her head. "He... uh, doused her in his blood," she finished, shivering.

Eliot looked away. 

"And what?" Margo asked, stepping closer to Alice and eyeing her. "He - he healed her?"

Julia shrugged weakly. "Something like that. Then, one of the sick fucks cheered," she said, clenching her teeth. "Like it was a show for them or something."

"And what happened next?" Eliot asked, lowly.

Julia frowned, looking guilty. "They grabbed him and just... disappeared. I'm so - "

Eliot put a hand in the air. "Not your fault," he said gruffly. "Wouldn't even have a Q to be kidnapped if it wasn't for you." It wasn't even flattery, just the truth.

She nodded quietly and stared down at her feet.

"We have to go after them," Margo said, turning. "If it's the McAllistairs - "

Eliot stepped forward and grabbed Margo by the shoulders, staring at her. "You've already been here too long," he said, seriously. "You need to get back to Fillory. You promised Fen you would only be three days tops."

Margo stared up at him. "Yeah, well, fuck that."

"You promised me you would take care of Fen," he continued, squeezing her arms. "Go back. I will take care of this."

Margo sniffed loudly. "You think because you're the first High King of Earth you can tell me what to do?" she asked, lifting her chin in the air. "Yeah right."

Eliot smiled down at her sadly. "Please, Bambi," he said softly. "Go. I can't risk losing you, too. If we need help, I'll send a rabbit, okay?"

"I will never get used to hearing those words together in a sentence," she replied quietly. Leaning up, she pecked him on the lips. "I will protect the fuck out of Fen and everyone. Go get our boy back, okay?"

He wiped his eyes roughly. "I will," he said, firmly.

*

Julia helped him with a locator spell - a very advanced one that took basically the rest of her energy. She sat on Quentin's bed and took a few deep, shuddering breaths.

Eliot looked over the map. "They're probably going to pick up on this soon," he mumbled, "especially if they're expecting us."

She looked up. "I'll be fine. Just - just give me a few seconds."

"No," he said, sudden and sharp. He shoved the enchanted map in his pocket. "You've exhausted yourself." Walking over, he stopped and crouched down in front of her. "Thank you, Julia. For everything."

Julia stared at him. "You can't go by yourself," she said quietly. 

"I can," he replied, standing up, "and I will."

Julia shook her head firmly. "You can't! They're too powerful - "

"I'll be fine," he interrupted. "I am the first High King of Earth," he said. Julia didn't laugh.

She smiled tightly. "Margo is going to kill me for letting you go by yourself," she said. "But okay. Q was only conscious for a couple minutes but aside from the whole," she gestured wildly, "weird blood thing he seemed like our Q." She softened, shoulders slumping. "It's really him, Eliot."

Eliot nodded. "I'm going to bring him back," he said. "Watch yourself, and Alice."

Julia glanced over at the other girl. "Okay," she whispered, nodding sharply.

*

The enchanted map worked like a charm. Literally. 

Eliot followed its directions, and ended up at an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town. Eliot stopped and took a breather, closing his eyes. He was... _furious_, honestly, anger and betrayal licking at his feet. He couldn't lose Q again, not when he was _right_ there.

But he couldn't be stupid about this. His magic had been getting stronger, yes, probably as a result of the whole magic is pain - and losing Q was the most pain he'd ever felt - philosophy, but he was still human.

Humans were weak, magic or not.

Taking a deep breath, he shoved the map in his pocket and sneaked around the back of the building. He saw a group of people - guards, obviously - near the door. 

He had to be quick about this, because as soon as he attacked them surely alarms would go off. Figuratively or literally. 

Both, probably.

Eliot briefly, weirdly thought back to Mike as he lifted his hands and moved them swiftly, breaking their necks. Even now, after everything, killing still impacted him, no matter the circumstances. He stepped over them without looking down.

The building was dirty and weak. The floor creaked with each step.

He stopped and closed his eyes, listening. A glorified eavesdropping spell, essentially.

At first all he heard was whispering. Then, a sob of pain. 

Eliot quickly opened his eyes. Quentin. He stumbled forward a few steps, anger slowly building in the pit of his stomach. Monsters. They were _monsters_.

Eliot started running, looking in each room. Empty, empty -

He reached the final door on the left and threw it open with a resounding bang.

He paused at the sight in front of him. Men and women surrounded Quentin, syringes in their hands. He clenched his jaw, stepping forward.

"Do something!" a man shouted. "Kill him!"

Quentin thrashed against his bindings, yelling around the makeshift gag in his mouth.

A woman stepped in front of him, hands moving swiftly. Battle magic. Weak stuff, though.

Eliot glared at her and with a jerk of his chin she was on the floor.

"Fuck. Do it!" one of them yelled.

Eliot looked up and saw all of them moving together, performing the same spell. Much stronger battle magic. He tilted his head, slowly.

Quentin yelled louder, muffled and pained. Eliot narrowed his eyes.

"Burn," he whispered before he quickly performed a spell. Three, actually. 

The first was a powerful fire spell that Eliot had only dreamed of doing when he was a younger, less talented magician - the building was engulfed in flames within seconds, burning and crackling. Their room was no exception.

Flames flickered at the feet of the Mcallisters. A few of them tried doing spells to protect themselves or put out the flames. Eliot had thought of that, of course, so no such luck. The rest of them ran out of the room.

The second spell was a protection spell against fire, a barrier surrounding Eliot. He walked through the burning bodies and flames and stopped beside Quentin.

"You're okay," he whispered. He reached down and removed the gag from his mouth, brushing some hair out of his face. "You're okay," he repeated, quieter.

The third was another protection spell, forming an even stronger barrier around Quentin.

Quentin stared up at him, smacking his lips. "I - I don't feel so good," he muttered, the corner of his lips qurking up. "But hey, El."

Eliot smiled, eyes wet. Reaching down again, he quickly removed his restraints and picked him up, cradling him like a baby. Quentin laughed weakly and buried his face in Eliot's chest. 

He glared at the few survivors.

"Quentin Coldwater is hereby retired from all this trauma bullshit," he said, "by order of the first fucking High King of Earth." He ran his fingers through Quentin's hair. "If you, or anyone, ever even harms a hair on his head again, I _will_ make you suffer. And your death won't be quick," he added, smiling darkly. "Understood?"

A survivor - a woman - nodded quickly.

"Tell every person you know," he added after a moment. 

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out of the room.

He stopped once they were outside and dropped the barriers, watching as the factory crumbled. He set his jaw and turned away.

*

"Shh, I think he's waking up," Margo said, leaning over Quentin on the couch.

His eyelashes fluttered a few times before he finally opened his eyes and groaned, squinting at the ceiling. "It's so fucking bright," he muttered, covering his eyes with one of his hands. "Turn the lights off, please."

Julia laughed, sudden and sharp, and jumped on him, burying her face in his hair.

He groaned again, louder. 

Eliot laughed wetly and leaned back, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Fuck," he whispered.

"You're okay," Julia said, pulling back, tears streaming down her face. "You're okay, you're okay," she repeated like a mantra. "God, Q, we missed you so fucking much."

Quentin smiled weakly and opened his eyes, peeking at her through his fingers. "Yeah?"

"Fucking yeah," Margo said loudly, flicking him in the forehead, hard. "Don't ever die on us again, you hear me?"

Quentin laughed before coughing a few times, clearing his throat. "Loud and clear."

"There's a lot of stuff we should probably talk about," Julia said, grabbing his hand. She squeezed lightly. "But I think someone has earned the right to talk to you first," her eyes flickered to Eliot, soft and questioning.

Quentin followed her line of sight and smiled, tired and weak but sincere and all Q.

"Hey," he said softly.

Eliot swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Hey."

Slowly, they all stood up and started piling out of the room. Margo, Julia. Alice lingered near the end of the couch. Quentin looked at her. He opened his mouth, but she quickly put a hand in the air. 

"I get it," she said simply, eyes flickering between Quentin and Eliot. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Quentin frowned. "Alice, I'm - "

"Don't," she said and smiled tightly. "I'm just so happy you're okay, Q," she whispered with watery eyes. Turning, she walked out of the room.

Eliot smiled, a bit sheepish. "We can, uh... save this for later if you want."

"No," Quentin answered, sitting up. Eliot hovered over him. He smiled, bemused. "But can we do it, like... not here?" 

Eliot nodded quickly. "Of course," he said, helping the other man stand up. Quentin leaned most of his weight against him, sighing lightly. "Bedroom?"

Quentin frowned, shaking his head. "Not mine," he answered, quietly. "Please."

"Okay," he replied.

Eliot's bedroom was kind of dusty. He rarely used it nowadays. He always tried to keep busy. When he was tired, he took a quick nap on the couch. He turned on the light, and Quentin apparently noticed. He frowned, looking around the room.

"Did you get your own place?" he asked, a bit teasing.

Eliot smiled sadly. "Not exactly," he answered. He walked them over to the bed and sat down. Quentin joined him. Even being injured, he couldn't help sitting like a dork, tucking his legs underneath him.

"God, I've missed you," he said, peering up into Quentin's eyes. "I don't think you know how much," he added after a moment, quieter.

Quentin licked his lips and shrugged. "Tell me?" he asked, nervously.

"It's a long story," he admitted honestly. "Can I just skip to the end?"

Quentin smiled fondly. "You've always been impatient," he whispered. "Okay."

Eliot looked away and took a deep breath, patting his thighs a few times. Then, he looked back. "I'm in love with you, Quentin Coldwater," he said. "I have been for a long, long time and I betrayed you the day I lied and implied I wasn't."

Quentin surprisingly didn't look angry. Just exhausted, and not just from the long night. "I know," he said, softly. "I always knew."

"Wh - what?" Eliot asked quickly. "How?"

Quentin tilted his head and smiled lightly. "I lived a whole life with you, El. I know you," he reached out and grabbed one of Eliot's hands. "I know you lie and run and push people away to protect yourself. And honestly, I don't blame you. Not all the time." He squeezed his hand. "Life is fucking scary, man."

Eliot laughed sharply. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. 

For a moment, it's silent.

"You're probably hungry," Eliot said finally. "I'll make you something."

Quentin squeezed his hand, tighter. "You really think I'm thinking about food right now?" he asked, the corners of his mouth quirking up. "I want something, but it's not food, Eliot," he continued playfully. 

Eliot stared at him. Then, "oh," he laughed sheepishly. "Make room, then."

Smiling, Quentin scooted over and Eliot laid down beside him, facing each other.

"You very well might not be human anymore," Eliot said suddenly.

Quentin shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not," he replied quietly. "But at least I can be of help now," he said, looking away.

"Q," he whispered, a serious expression on his face. "You were always helpful. We always needed you."

He looked back. "Yeah?"

Eliot reached out and slowly, tentatively cupped Quentin's face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "Yeah," he confirmed, leaning forward and softly pressing their lips together.  
Quentin pulled away and threw a leg over Eliot, straddling him. Eliot stared up at him with wide, dark eyes. 

"Hello?" he purred, placing his hands on Quentin's hips. "What is this?"

Quentin leaned down and kissed him again. When they separated, he licked his lips and pulled his shirt off. Eliot stared at him, a bit sober.

"Q, hey, you just... literally came back from the dead," Eliot swallowed thickly, "maybe you should think more about what you want." 

"Oh, no way," Quentin said, leaning down and pressing their foreheads together. "We are not doing this again," he said, firmly. "I just came back from the dead after spending months wanting you, but thinking I'd never have you again. Whether because of the monster," he pulled back and smiled sadly, "or because you simply didn't think you deserved to be happy."

Eliot looked away.

"I want you," he said. "Then, I want a good nap and food."

Eliot laughed suddenly. God, he loved this dork. 

"Is that a yes or no?" Quentin asked, patting Eliot's chest. 

He looked up, feeling warm and giddy and happy. "Yes," he said. "_Yes_."

Grinning like a shark, Quentin slowly wiggled his hands under Eliot's shirt. "Shirts are so annoying," he said, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah?" he replied with a laugh. "Here, sit up."

Quentin obeyed quickly. Eliot sat up and tugged his shirt off, elegant like always. Quentin pouted and trailed a finger down Eliot's chest. "You're annoying, too," he teased, biting his bottom lip.

"Wow," Eliot laughed again. "Thanks."

Quentin leaned forward and kissed him. Eliot kissed back, running his fingers through his hair. For a few seconds the kiss was innocent and sweet. All their emotions poured into it. Slowly, Quentin deepened the kiss, licking into the other man's mouth and shifting in his lap.

Pulling back, Eliot took a deep breath and stared into Quentin's eyes. "I never thought I'd, uh, have this again," he said, a bit shy.

Eliot was almost never shy. Quentin softened and rolled off his lap. 

"Here," he said, cupping Eliot's face and turning his body toward him. "I want you."

Eliot licked his lips, slowly. "Okay," he agreed, barely a whisper.

Quentin reached down and shimmied out of his jeans. Eliot watched him fondly before he reached down and pulled off his own pants, tossing them to the floor. Quentin leaned forward and rubbed their noses together. 

"Be gentle," he said, softly. "It's been a while."

Eliot smiled and kissed his nose. "Of course," he replied quietly. "And guess what?"

Quentin squinted. "What?"

"I perfected _another_ spell while you were away," he said, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind one of Quentin's ears. "But I swear I practiced it on my own." He cleared his throat. "I, uh - I haven't slept with anyone. Since you've been gone."

Quentin smiled lightly. "Yeah?"

"Let me show you," he continued quickly, a little flushed. Lifting one of his hands, he performed a simple tut with his fingers.

Quentin shivered with a gasp. He could feel some of the lube dripping onto his thighs. Usually, the lube spell was uncomfortable, weird and foreign, but this was different. He shifted and gasped again.

"God," he moaned, peering up through his eyelashes. "What did you do?"

Eliot grinned, petting his hair. "Sensitivity spell," he explained. "Like it?"

Quentin stared at him. "Wh - what do you think?" he asked, shuddering. "Fuck."

"Hmmm," Eliot reached up and gently brushed some hair out of his face. "Turn over?"

Quentin sniffled and turned over. For a moment, Eliot paused and just appreciated Quentin. Every inch of him. His beautiful freckled back, his fairly thick thighs, his long hair splayed over the pillow.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

Quentin stiffened. "Really?" he asked, a bit shy.

Eliot reached down and ran his hands over Quentin's back, light and teasing. "I wish you knew how beautiful you were," he continued softly. "How amazing you are in general, really." He smiled and dropped his hands lower, squeezing his ass.

"Y - you don't have to flatter me," he gasped, burying his face in the pillow. "You've already got me in bed," he joked lightly.

Eliot laughed airily. "Yeah?" he asked with a grin, gently pressing his first finger against Quentin's hole. He was wet, soaked from the spell. He slowly pushed his finger in, pausing for a few seconds once it was all the way in.

Quentin shifted, groaning. "God, it's been so long. _God_."

"You feel so good," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss behind Quentin's ear. "So perfect."

Quentin laughed sharply. "K - keep talking," he said, smacking his lips. "Please."

Eliot grinned wider and curled his finger inside Quentin. Quentin gasped loudly and threw his head back, onto Eliot's shoulder. He turned his head and Eliot kissed him knowingly, curling his finger again.

"More," Quentin moaned when they separated, staring at him with wide, dark eyes.

Eliot rubbed their noses together. "Okay, darling," he whispered.

Slowly, he added a second finger. Quentin squeezed around him, moaning. Eliot smiled, biting his bottom lip, and scissored his fingers, stretching him.

"Yes," he moaned again, loud and broken. "Fuck yes."

Eliot kissed his jaw. "Slowly, baby. Soon," he assured him, adding a third finger.

Quentin nodded jerkily, burying his face back in the pillow. He groaned quietly with each movement of Eliot's fingers. Finally, "I think you're ready, baby."

"Yes, yes, yes," Quentin replied quickly, pushing back against his fingers. 

Eliot bit the inside of his cheek, suppressing a grin. Slowly, gently, he removed his fingers and just to be safe added a bit more magical lube. He wanted this to be good for Quentin. The best. 

He pushed Quentin's hair away from his neck and kissed it softly. "Okay, baby, take a deep breath."

Quentin obeyed, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Eliot held his cock in his hand and positioned himself at Quentin's hole, slowly pushing in. He paused after the first few inches. 

"Good, darling?"

Quentin nodded quickly. "Yes," he answered, nearly whining.

Eliot smiled lightly and continued, pushing deeper. Finally, he bottomed out with a gasp. Quentin squeezed around him, shuddering.

"I - I love you," he whispered, burying his face in Quentin's hair. "I'm so sorry you had to wait so long to hear that."

Quentin sniffed, laughing wetly. "I love you, too," he said. "Now fuck me, will ya?"

*

After, they stayed in bed, cuddling and holding each other. Eliot performed a quick cleaning spell, cleaning them up. 

"Magic is... so _convenient_," Quentin muttered tiredly, burying his face in Eliot's chest. 

Eliot laughed wholeheartedly, jostling them both. He ran his fingers through Quentin's hair. "Think so?" he teased lightly. "Things are probably going to be messy after this," he continued after a few beats. "I mean, with your blood and stuff. I warned them, but - "

Quentin pulled back, smiling softly. "Shh," he said. "_Later_."

"Yeah?" Eliot smiled back, feeling warm and giddy and content. "Okay."


End file.
